Delusional
by RenaYumi
Summary: Oneshot YxU Sequel to Addict. 'He had absolutely no right to make her fall in love with him. Who did he think he was? Some sort of prince charming who could just move in and sweep her off her feet? He wasn’t …that charming anyways.'


**Delusional**

**A/n: For Jeni, so insisting I pull another two am session. And for loving crazy!lovesick!Yumi just as much as crazy!lovesick!Ulrich. Enjoy.**

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**S**he counted the revolutions of her ceiling fan. The seconds between every minute for two hours staring at her alarm clock. She played the Zen CD he burned he during a bout of insomnia sje jad last winter. _That_ was a splendid idea. He was delusional. He was sleep deprived and strung out on energy drinks.

The fan clicks every four hundred and seventy-one revolutions.

He didn't know what he was saying and she would absolutely not spend another second awake at two in the morning wondering-- she needed to get back to the school. She needed to get back to the school and ask him. She tossed her blankets aside, sitting up in bed and moving swiftly to the window.

But what was she doing? It was two in the morning! She groaned, dragging herself back to her bed. There was no way he'd be awake after yesterday's, oh man yesterday already, incident. He'd be dead asleep. Like she _should_ be at two in the morning.

He's so frustrating. And confusing. Ugh, he shouldn't be allowed to do this with summer approaching so rapidly. Mere days until they were half a world away and she couldn't _see_ his smile or hear his laughter without the help of a phone and… what was she saying? It was not any different than anyone else. He was no different…

Oh, who is she kidding? It's two in the morning, and you can't even lie to yourself at such and ungodly hour.

Now she understands why he took up coffee. She'd kill for something to keep her awake right now, because she's in that sort of hypnagogic state and she can't seem to shake it. It's starting to make her sappy and wishing she had just stayed in his dorm, Odd there or not. Sure, he looked rather out of it and he sounded terrible but as soon as he was back to sleep he looked so _peaceful_ and she wanted to share that with him.

There was absolutely no way he could be in love with her. She wasn't even in love with him. Sure she loved him, but! But! She loved Aelita, or Jeremie or even Odd, too, right? Well, sure. His smile gave her butterflies sometimes and his chocolate eyes had a tendency to make her knees convert to jello and one _glance _from them sent her straight into that melty feeling that could calm even her worst nerves but she wasn't in love with him.

Love and in love were very different!

..Ok so she was a teeny bit _in love_ with his hands and how they felt when he had grabbed hers. And maybe just a little _in_ love with how seamlessly their bodies fit together when they found themselves in compromising positions due to Xana attacks. But she was definitely not in love.

Oh, why did that taste like such a lie on her tongue when she tired it out loud? She couldn't love her best friend! She couldn't ruin such an amazing thing by admitting..--er, _having_ such feelings about someone she was so close to. What would she do without him?! She was a tiny, tiny bit addicted to him, but not to such an extreme that it was affecting her.

It wasn't affecting her. Really. She'd had bouts of insomnia before all this, too. It was around that time that William had shown up and Ulrich had-- oh.

…

Well there were other times, too.

Even now when she's closing her eyes and counting her purposely slow breaths she'd see his face in her mind's eye. She sees him running and fighting and …ugh. She groans opening her eyes again. She can't sleep because she'll dream of him. She can't stay awake because she'll think about him.

Somebody just _drug _her and get it over with.

There had to still be saki downstairs from her father's dinner party. Maybe she could down the rest of the bottle and spend the night puking. That would get her mind of him for at least a few hours, right? But someone would notice it gone in the morning and then she'd be grounded and possibly sent to therapy and her father would blame him and she'd never be allowed to see him again.

..Ok, so even if it _would_ be slightly his fault that would still be a fate worse that death and -- alright, she was just a little _in_ love with him. But only just a little. And he still didn't mean it.

But what if he did? What if by some strange plot twist her-- woah, woah, woah. Stop right there. He was not _her_ anything. Her friend. Her best-ish friend, even. But that was it. She didn't need to love him, she was just fine without that sort of relationship with him. And even if he did love her, she had seen how he handled himself and it would only cause her grief trying to keep him well and on his feet and _not _up until all hours of the morning muttering to himself and writing in his diary about _God knows what_ only to say things he probably didn't mean in the morning and confuse the hell out of her.

It was two, pushing three, in the morning and she had not been able to concentrate on anything else but three small words said by the one person who could say them and poison her mind into betraying her and believe him.

Maybe some tea. Yeah. Tea would make her feel better. Calm her down. Help her sleep. She padded down the stairs to the kitchen to start some water on the stove. He made her tea once when she was sick and couldn't get out of bed and she whined and yelled at him to leave before he caught whatever she had and died with her. He brought it up anyways and sat on the edge of the bed while she drank it.

Best tea ever.

She shut off the water on the stove and moved to the living room. She couldn't make tea at two am. What was she thinking? She'd burn the house down. Or continue on a tangent about him again. Oh, this was such a mess. She paced the dimly lit living room, hands clasped behind her back. She needed to sleep because she needed to be able to get up so she could see him tomorrow so she could stop thinking about him. He would be back to normal and most definitely not be in love with her. Except…

She was sort-of, kind-of, _maybe_ in total utter love with him.

Only not. Because she couldn't be.

Oh! He was so impossible and irritating! Did he even know the hell he was subjecting her too? She crashed on the couch with a muffled grunt. Couldn't possibly.. He was… delusional and out of his mind and … didn't mean it! Couldn't mean it.

Tomorrow this would be over. But it was two...three… four am? God, what time was it? How long had he kept her awake without even knowing? She couldn't even die to escape it because she would be too far away from him to even consider eternal rest.

That was it. The second she saw him in the morning, she was going to hit him. He had absolutely no right to make her fall in love with him. Who did he think he was? Some sort of prince charming who could just move in and sweep her off her feet? He wasn't …_that_ charming anyways. He had no right!

He was so dead.

He was so confusing and infuriating and oh _god _was she in love with him. That was her last fleeting admittance to herself as her brain finally reached it's breaking point and she fell to unconsciousness face down on the couch.

And she would dream about him.

And she would punch him _right_ in the stomach for making her dream about him come morning.


End file.
